Asturias to the Picos

1Day 75 Into Asturias proper Tuesday 15 May

Sun again so a walk westwards along the coast which is very beautiful and empty. Lowish cliffs, golden sandy beaches and deserted. Except for one pair of walkers, a Japanese couple. Haven’t seen many Japanese but those we have were always in the usual group of 30 or 40. The coast is very like Cornwall or parts of Devon but I can’t get used to the fact that the sea is northwards, it just doesn’t feel right because it should be to the south.

Back again for lunch at the van and the Czech contingent has swelled by several outfits and another team coach. It seems that they’re on their way to Portugal and are resting for a few days. They are remarkably quiet.

Day 76 Somiedo Wednesday 16 May

As we leave this really well kept, excellent site, the family turn out to wave goodbye. So far, Asturias has been very good. We are headed for Somiedo, a protected mountainous area with Brown Bears and Wolves still around, but extremely unlikely to be seen. The approach is stunning, along a narrow gorge with rock overhangs in a number of places. The old mule track is still open in places for walking and you do wonder what these places must have been like when the only way in or out was a twenty mile long mule track. Many people must have lived their whole lives within leaving the valley. The ‘capital’ where we’re stopping is less than a hundred houses, although two blocks of flats are currently under construction.

The park info. centre has the best information we’ve seen in all our three months in Spain and fortunately we arrive at 1.45 because it shuts for the day at 2.00. We get a good cheap map, leaflets outlining a dozen walks of varying length and difficulty and someone speaking English who seems keen to impart some information with enthusiasm. The walk leaflets of course cleverly channel nearly all visitors into a few areas, leaving the really restricted bits unapproachable.

We had a leisurely lunch at about 3.30 at the Hotel to which the campsite is attached, washed down with some local cider for which Asturias is noted. It’s proper dry cider, with sediment ! The local style is that a small amount is poured from the bottle held at arms length into a glass (to get the air in) which you are then supposed to drink in one go and then repeat the process.

Day 77 The Glacial Lake Thursday 17 May

This is a walk day. Valle de Lago to Lago de Valle, a glacial lake in the mountains. Very steep climb, for the van I’m glad to say, to get to the start high up above our campsite. Only about 5 kms by road but 600 metres (about 2000 feet) higher. We’ll climb a further 300 metres in the 6 kms to the lake. Proper parking and excellent waymarking - it’s like being in a different country. One example of the waymarking is at a point where there’s a choice of routes over the last 3 kms. The signs tells you which is the shady route and which is the sunny one, which is really good service. Fantastic views, no raptors but good flowers, especially near the top where we find hundreds of Pyrennean Fritillaries, most beautiful plants.

I’d always being wary of filling water bottles from streams even in the mountains, because, as I say “there could be a dead sheep in the water just around the corner“. When we get to the lake and peek over the retaining wall, you guessed, a very dead chamois or something similar.

We’ re not far below patches of snow, the hills rise very steeply and the lake is an icy blue, covering several acres, I guess. It’s very restful and despite the channelling of visitors we only see about half a dozen other people.

Day 78 Into the real mountains Friday 18 May

Today is much more challenging on higher ground aiming for the highest peak in the area, at 2200m. Our walk starts in a village which is higher than our glacial lake from yesterday. It’s listed as 7 kilometres each way and after about 3 hours walking and my legs giving out we seem to be about two thirds of the way there and a lot lower than the top. Snow fields have been crossed and my hat has been filled with cooling snow. We’re looking at an 8 - 9 hour round trip and I decide that it would not be a good idea to still go for the top. So we give up. Heather would like to go to the top and I graciously offer to wait for her but sense prevails. The path is not as obvious high up and she would be at least 2, possibly 3 hours. I’m certain it’s longer than the claimed 7 k to the top, our trip has taken 5 hours by the time we get back to the van.

Dinner at a bar/restaurant in the village in the evening. Cider cools in the bottle standing with it’s companions in a crate in the river and the barman has to climb in to get our drinks. He has a powerful looking corkscrew fixed to the outside of the bar which pulls and cuts the cork into the proper shape to help with the intricate pouring technique I mentioned before.

The bar has a collection of old photographs and it is a miracle that there are any beard left. One, dated as recently as 1955 shows some hunters with 4 bear corpses. There are about 20 left and I bet they’re bloody nervous most of the time.

Day 79 A long journey to Los Picos Saturday 19 May

Handy low mist for our longish journey to Los Picos de Europa, a smallish mountain range, some of which has been protected since 1919 and along with Coto Donana probably the best known wildlife area in Spain. We hope it’s not been ‘oversold’ and we end up disappointed.

Travelling during mucky weather doesn’t seem such a waste of time as travelling in good weather, although we lose out on all the views as we go. Still, can’t have everything.

In the info. centre at Cangas, they have nothing on walking and we’re directed to a local newsagent to buy a map. It would be funny if it wasn’t so aggravating. It also turns out that Los Picos is partly in three different regions and in Cangas (Asturias) they only know about the Asturian section, so it‘s like three different parks. Roads are round the edge with dead ends leading in to the centre a bit and we head southwards along the western side down an amazing narrow gorge for 20 miles or so. You have to marvel at the road engineering that put it in. As we leave the gorge and the land opens out before us we’re out of the mist and cloud and in brilliant sunshine for a cuppa overlooking another huge reservoir. Plunging into the mist again as we now head eastwards towards our campsite, we find that the weather is as we expected, very patchy and different in very short distances.

The mention of a cuppa reminds me that before we came I estimated how much tea we’d need for 3 months. Bearing in mind that tea is mixed stronger in Britain for the British taste than it is in continental Europe or the USA, I didn‘t want to buy it in Spain. So we brought 340 tea bags with us and I’m pleased to report that at the present rate of usage, when we board the ferry next Friday we’ll have two left.

Day 80 Sunday 20 May

Mist on the mountain tops so we wait a while to see what’ll happen. What happens is that a older British man from nearby wanders over to chat. We’ve met several like this and it‘s always the man, not the woman. He wants to talk. When not talking, he’s not listening, just waiting to talk again. I find out that they’ve been to Provence for 10 years, that Chelsea won the cup although Giggsy claims that his free kick etc. etc. etc. I did point out that we had just come from an area where we saw no Brits for three days and how good it was. Heather thought this a bit lacking in tact but it was like water off a duck’s back. I’m as sociable as the next man, as long as the next man is Hannibal Lecter but these people are so tediously boring.

Virtually no let up in rain today. The local village, Potes looks as if it would be very attractive if it wasn’t for all the tourist tat, so we just buy bread. Time to catch up on computer stuff, photos and blog.